Birthday Cake
by XtremeGal87
Summary: It was such a simple thing. Embarrassment flooded into her. Heat scorched through him. It was a good thing the cake had already made it into the refrigerator. IchiHime oneshot.


_**A/N:**_ Hello all! I promise I have not forgotten about 'Second Chance' (in fact, you should have more of that coming shortly!), but haven't you noticed that today is a special day? Yes, that's right, it's Orihime's birthday! So, since I celebrated Ichigo's birthday, it's only fair that I celebrate hers, too, right? LOL And therefore, I present you with this one-shot! Also, please remember, it's rated 'M' for a reason, okay?

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach – for one thing, if I did, IchiHime would be canon by now!

**Birthday Cake**

** As subtly **as she could, Orihime reached up and pinched her arm. The sharp stinging sensation she hadn't really expected immediately shot through her, and she couldn't quite stop the small exclamation of pain that slipped from her lips. "Ow!" _Nope,_ she thought simultaneously, _definitely not a dream, then._

The figure in her kitchen paused and turned his head, concern curving his lips into a familiar frown. "Are you alright?"

"Oh! Yes!" Orihime assured him quickly, waving her hands wildly as she laughed and hoped her protective boyfriend wouldn't ask about the red spot on her arm. "I'm fine!"

Frown still firmly etched onto his face, Ichigo turned to face her properly and arched one eyebrow. "Then why did you just say 'ow'?"

Orihime laughed self-consciously and, one hand lifting to scratch the back of her head, she replied, "Heh, I, um…pinched myself?"

"Why would you do that?" Ichigo pushed, intense brown eyes leaving hers only long enough to scan her arm and see the evidence of her claim.

"Well," Orihime began carefully as she shifted and clasped her hands behind her back, "I just never thought I'd see you…you know, in my kitchen."

Ichigo sighed, his frown vanishing as his lips curved in the opposite direction for a moment. Stepping forward, he lifted one hand and trailed his thumb along her jaw lightly as he said, "Hime, it's not that big a deal. Now go sit down or something, because I'm not letting you help on this."

Orihime relaxed instantly at his light, tender touch and smiled softly. "But it'll go much fast-!"

Warm, gentle lips over hers cut off whatever she'd been about to say, and Orihime melted against him, easily lifting her hands to curl them into the fabric over his sides. His hands skimmed down her sides as well, pulling her close for an instant before he pulled away completely.

"I tell you what," Ichigo murmured, "I'll let you be the taste-tester, alright?"

Her gray eyes lit up at his offer and she nodded faintly as she smiled at him. "I can live with that."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling up from deep in his chest as much as actually rolling past his lips, and shifted to press a kiss to her forehead before he stepped back. "Now scram, I need space."

Orihime laughed, releasing him, and said, "Okay, okay! I'll be in the living room…."

She stepped back and he grinned at her once more before turning back to her counter, and the items he'd begun to scatter across it. Obediently, Orihime turned and walked out of her small kitchen.

When she'd reached the entrance, however, she stopped again and turned back around silently. No self-respecting woman would leave that kitchen without taking at least _**one**_ more look, after all.

He had shown up barely half an hour prior, a familiar, frustrated set to his jaw and an equally familiar, apologetic shine in his eyes. He'd been carrying a couple of grocery bags in his hands.

A quick explanation revealed that he'd gone out that morning to purchase the items within, fully intending to make a cake for her birthday. But when he'd set up in his kitchen, his family had made a scene, both Isshin and Yuzu demanding to have a part in the baking process, and Ichigo's subsequent refusal hadn't gone over well. So, reluctantly, he'd had no choice but to pack up his supplies and ask to borrow her kitchen.

Of course he'd still insisted on doing it himself, but Orihime had relented with a smile. She had, however, had to remind him that he might (perhaps) want to consider an apron.

And so the image now before her was born. Another smile, small and knowingly appreciative, curved her lips as she watched him move.

Ichigo Kurosaki stood in her kitchen, currently reading the directions on the back of a box of cake-mix, clad in his usual worn blue denim jeans and one of his favorite t-shirts. The jeans and shirt, however, were mostly-covered by the apron he'd borrowed, which was tied around his neck and (barely) around his torso.

With a barely-stifled giggle Orihime decided, _He looks good in pink._

* * *

><p><strong>Ichigo sighed<strong> as he scowled at the bowl before him. It was no secret that he wasn't a baker, and for that reason alone he'd completely understood the flabbergasted expressions his family had given him earlier that morning when he'd declared that he was making a cake for Orihime. Still, it wasn't like he was making it _**from scratch**_, so it couldn't be that difficult, right?

That had been his reasoning. And, in truth, he supposed it really wasn't that complicated. The problem was more him. He wanted it to be perfect.

He and Orihime had been dating since the end of the War. For her birthday the year before, after the surprise party Tatsuki had thrown, Ichigo had taken her to dinner and a late showing of the newest movie she wanted to see. Orihime had claimed that her birthday couldn't have been better, and he knew she meant it, but this year he wanted to do more. He hadn't even been able to hold her in his arms that night, since he hadn't had the foresight to ask Chad and Uryuu to take over hollow-duty.

He'd already rectified that particular mistake – Chad and Uryuu had promised to handle the hollows for a couple of days, which gave him time to focus on the cake, too. The cake wasn't her only present, of course, but he'd already purchased (or arranged for) the others, which meant he didn't have to worry about rushing to the store when he was done.

Again he scowled at the defenseless batter in front of him. _I suppose it's about ready for the oven, then,_ he thought after a moment. And then, remembering his earlier promise, he turned his head slightly toward the entry to the kitchen and called, "Orihime."

His girlfriend popped her head around the corner seconds later with a smile. "Yes?"

"I promised you a sneak-preview, didn't I?" Ichigo replied with a lopsided grin. "Come tell me what you think."

She was moving even before he'd finished, and in no time she was standing at his side, eyeing the bowl of cake batter greedily.

Thinking quickly, and partially afraid that she might just grab a spoon and dig in, Ichigo pulled out a teaspoon and scooped a tiny portion of the batter onto it. He smirked as her eyes followed the spoon until he was holding it before her. "Here," he said unnecessarily.

Orihime easily took the spoon from him and the batter almost immediately disappeared into her mouth. Her eyes fell closed and she hummed appreciatively as she swallowed.

Ichigo swallowed as well, for an entirely different reason, and forced himself to turn his gaze onto something else. He kept his lips tightly shut and inhaled deeply through his nose. _Did she _**have**_ to make that sound?_

"Delicious!" Orihime declared a heartbeat later, popping the spoon from her mouth with a bright smile. She seemed entirely oblivious to the torture she was putting him through.

Ichigo dragged his eyes back to hers and smiled, disturbed (as always) at how easy the gesture was. "Good," he said. Then he plucked the spoon from her and tossed it into the sink before planting his hands on her shoulders and turning her around, adding, "Now go. I'm not done."

Orihime pouted, not at all surprised by his insistence, and sighed as she said, "I'm going, I'm going! Let me know when you need my tongue again!"

She was already out of sight as the last words reached his ears, and Ichigo choked. He dragged one hand over his face, barely biting back a groan, before turning his attention – what he could muster of it, at least – back to the task at hand.

He knew – first hand – that she wasn't as innocent as she sometimes acted. Even so, he also knew that (probably) she hadn't even been thinking about _**that**_ when she'd spoken. _But couldn't she have found a different way to say it?_ It was no use, he knew. Orihime would always say, or do, something to send him right over the edge. _Hell, I won't be surprised if she's doing this to me when I'm _**ninety**_._

With a shake of his head, Ichigo went back to work.

* * *

><p><strong>Since he <strong>didn't want her to see the finished product before her birthday, and he had purchased a box (originally intending to need it for carrying the cake), Ichigo didn't call her in to taste the frosting until he was completely done.

He decorated the cake as best he could, having decided the day before not to try anything too elaborate – he wasn't an artist, either, after all. And when he was done with that he carefully eased it into the box, before slipping the whole thing into her refrigerator. Fortunately he had had the foresight to shift her things around while the cake had been baking.

When he was done he stepped back and turned to the bowl with the frosting remains. He was glad he was done, and he hoped she liked the cake, but for now he'd settle for knowing she liked the frosting. So, as he dipped his finger into the bowl to scoop up some of the frosting, Ichigo called, "Want to taste the frosting?"

"_**Yes!**_" Orihime cried eagerly. Shuffling and rapid footsteps told him she was most likely running through her apartment, as if she were afraid the frosting would vanish if she took too long.

He turned, his eyes laughing and matching the smirk on his lips, as she quickly joined him. Without thought, he held his finger out for her.

Orihime's eyes immediately locked onto the frosting and she licked her lips in anticipation. She grabbed his hand with both of hers, holding it still as she wrapped her lips around his extended digit.

Ichigo froze, eyes going wide and breath catching somewhere in his chest, as her tongue swirled around his finger.

Her eyes were closed and her tongue was sliding along the tip of his finger slowly, doing her best to capture every ounce of frosting. But that wasn't the only thing her tongue was doing. And then, as she swallowed, her throat hummed faintly and the feeling vibrated up to his finger.

She released his digit with a pop, and as her eyes opened and her hands released his, it dawned on her what she had just done. She swallowed again, her wide eyes slowly, guiltily, crawling up to his.

Ichigo's finger still tingled from her tongue, but he could barely feel it. Suddenly he was on fire, and it was a good thing he'd already gotten the cake into the refrigerator, because he couldn't remember why he should have cared otherwise. And when her eyes finally met his, the mixture of shame, embarrassment, and desire he saw there was exactly what he needed to let go.

His hands were on her hips a heartbeat later, lifting her from the floor even as his lips crashed onto hers.

Orihime lifted her legs and wrapped them around his hips without hesitation as Ichigo's tongue swept into her mouth hungrily. She dragged her hands up his still-apron-covered chest until she was able to curl her arms around his shoulders tightly. Her legs tightened around him as her back met with the nearest available wall.

She raked her nails across his scalp and the back of his neck, and Ichigo growled into her mouth as he rolled his hips forward, grinding his arousal against her core. He kept their lips together firmly, forcing her to moan into his mouth. His tongue was everywhere, sliding along hers sensuously before moving to explore the cavern of her mouth. The hunger of his kiss was undeniable.

Ichigo's fingers shifted, sliding beneath the hem of her shirt deliberately. As soon as the fabric was out of his way his hands slid up, running along her smooth skin and wringing another delicious moan out of her. But the shirt was in his way.

Orihime gasped, dragging in ragged breaths when Ichigo broke from her lips in order to tear off her shirt. She barely noticed as the fabric was pulled free from her skin, but she certainly noticed when he went to repeat the motion with his own shirt, only to find that the apron was still in his way.

He growled a curse under his breath, attempting to reach around and untie it without letting her down, and Orihime couldn't help but laugh softly. He stilled at the sound, his eyes returning to hers, and she smiled coyly before leaning forward and wrapping her arms around his neck. With two swift tugs she pulled the top tie free, letting the soft-pink material fall as she leaned back against the wall.

Ichigo quickly curved an arm around her waist, stepped from the wall, and pulled her off of him long enough to yank the apron the rest of the way off. It hadn't even hit the floor before he pinned her once more to her kitchen wall, using one hand to guide her legs around him again. Before she could wrap her arms back around him he finally managed to remove his shirt, and then his lips were over hers again.

Orihime moaned into his kiss as their tongues clashed again, his hunger igniting a familiar passion within her own body. She had to pull her arms back from him one more time as he made short work of removing her bra, but it was worth the time apart as their chests were suddenly pressed solidly against each other. One of her hands curled over his back, her nails scraping the skin, and Ichigo ground into her even as he pulled her lower lip between his teeth and nibbled slightly.

Then one of his large hands came up, his thumb leading the charge by trailing over her hardened nipple, and Orihime gasped against his lips.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she was astounded, as she always was, that his touch still elicited such an immediate, and powerful, response from her. She felt like she was constantly teetering on the edge with him, and just one brush of his fingers or touch of his tongue was all it took to send her toppling right over.

He finally broke from her lips, allowing her to suck in much-needed air, and bowed his head in order to trail hot kisses along her jaw and down the side of her throat. He paused, lingering beneath her jaw, massaging the area with his lips before running his tongue along it. Then he moved on, repeating similar actions sporadically across her skin until he found her pulse-point.

When he found it, he grazed the spot with his teeth, causing her to arch against him and push her breast harder against his hand. He squeezed gently, kneading her pliable flesh, as his tongue darted out and ran over her pulse-point. Her legs tightened around him and her fingers buried themselves in his hair as she clung to him, wordlessly begging him to continue.

After another minute he reversed direction and began trailing his kisses back up to her lips, before he once again claimed her mouth in a powerful kiss. He rolled her nipple between his fingers one more time before pulling his hand away, and he leaned more into her as his hands skimmed down her sides purposefully.

She was barely aware of his intentions as his hands slipped beneath her skirt, massaging her thighs as they approached their goal. His tongue slid, slowly, along hers as his fingers hooked beneath the hem of her panties, and even as she registered the brush of his knuckles against her skin, it was too late.

"Ichi-!" she gasped, pulling her lips from his for a moment even though she knew it was in vain. His hands were already curving over her hips, still beneath her skirt, and his thumbs were already caressing the newly-exposed skin beneath them.

"I'll buy you new ones," Ichigo rumbled as he pulled her lips back to his. His kiss was firm, but somehow sweet, and as he pulled her tongue into his mouth one of her hands curved around to his chest, fingers curled enough so that the nails were scraping his skin.

She had completely forgotten about her loss by the time her wandering hand had made it all the way to the waistband of his jeans. Otherwise she would surely have been mortified at the idea of him buying her underwear – again.

Orihime made quick work of the buckle on his belt, and as she moved to release the button on his jeans, Ichigo slipped one long finger inside of her.

Her body arched and her hand stilled as her other hand fisted in his hair. She took over the kiss for a long minute as he slowly moved his finger in and out of her. It never occurred to her that it was the same finger that she'd had in her mouth just minutes before as she curled her tongue around his.

Ichigo's other hand slipped from beneath her skirt, pausing to help her with the button on his jeans, before moving to land on her hip and hold her in place. He felt another growl vibrate up from his chest as she moved against his hand, and he slipped a second finger inside of her.

He was completely aware of the moment Orihime's hand slid the zipper of his jeans down, freeing his aching arousal. But even so, he was caught off-guard when her slim hand wrapped around it.

Despite himself, he grunted a curse against her lips as she squeezed and dragged her hand slowly away. His own fingers pumped faster and harder into her as he rolled his hips forward to keep contact with her hand. She squeezed again as she slid her hand towards him once more and Ichigo tore his lips from hers in order to suck in a desperate, ragged breath.

His lips automatically sought out the delicious, delicate skin of her throat as she continued to pump him, and he rumbled, "Hime…"

His fingers were still moving steadily within her, and her voice was breathless as she gasped, "Jeans-!"

Realizing her point, Ichigo withdrew his hand, and when Orihime did the same he reached back and hooked his thumb over the waistbands of his remaining clothing. Her previously-lowered arm returned to his shoulders, holding tightly, and he used his other hand to help quicken the process of removing his pants.

He was bare, jeans and boxers kicked aside, a moment later. Orihime tugged on his hair, guiding his lips back to hers, as she tightened her legs around him. His hands returned to her hips as he ravished her mouth, and with a quick, sharp thrust he was buried to the hilt inside of her.

The kiss broke as they both released long, throaty moans, and their hips began moving together in a familiar, blissful, dance.

Ichigo began trailing kisses along her shoulder and collar as her fingers tangled in his hair and her body arched against him. The kisses alternated between soft, tender and chaste, to wet, hot and hungry, and Orihime breathed his name as his teeth scraped her sensitive skin.

He lingered over her collar before tilting his head to begin the ascent up her throat. Instead of climbing to her lips, he shifted course and trailed his tongue to her ear before nibbling lightly on her earlobe. She moaned again beneath him and one hand slipped from his hair to slide down his shoulder blade.

As he continued to surge into her, their hips slapping together as she moved to meet him eagerly, Ichigo trailed light kisses across her cheek. Then their lips met again and the tenderness vanished as he dominated her, his hands tightening over her hips as he thrust into her a little harder.

Orihime groaned, tightening her own hold on him, as he pressed her flat against the wall. One of his hands lifted up until he could wrap his fingers around her breast, and he surged inside her again as he dragged his thumb over her nipple. She gasped into his kiss and he swallowed his name as it rolled off of her tongue.

She locked her ankles behind him as he moved, meeting him thrust for thrust as they worked toward that precipice. Their tongues battled as they moved from his mouth to hers, and Orihime moved her arm around in order to drag her nails down his side. Her lips tore from his a moment later as he surged powerfully into her and she loudly gasped his name.

His hand abandoned her breast after giving it one final squeeze, and Ichigo returned his feverish kisses to her throat as he thrust rapidly inside of her. Her grip on his hair tightened even as her other hand clenched over his back and his lips descended on her pulse-point again.

A handful of sharp, powerful thrusts later and Orihime tightened around him as she threw her head back and cried out his name. He was tumbling after her a heartbeat later, growling her name into her skin as his vision went white.

For a long moment, neither moved, still clinging to the other as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

Finally, when he felt he could move without crumbling in an embarrassing (but utterly worth it) heap, Ichigo carefully pulled out of her. Her legs slid from his hips and her grip on him loosened as the hand previously tangled in his hair slid down to frame his face gently.

Their eyes met, and Orihime smiled softly at him. She was still breathing deeply, though she was no longer gasping, and her cheeks were still faintly flushed. Her smile broadened slightly, and her eyes danced with silent laughter as she murmured, "The frosting was delicious, Ichigo."

Abrupt, choked, laughter tore from Ichigo's throat and he grinned, letting his forehead rest against hers. "Good, because it's too late to change it."

She laughed with him for a moment, curving her arms loosely around his neck, before saying, "You do know my birthday's tomorrow, right?"

"Tch," Ichigo scoffed, his thumbs rubbing absently across her hip-bones. "Of course I do; why do you think I made the cake _**today**_?"

"Well," Orihime began teasingly, "I was just curious, because today's been pretty good, and I don't know how you're going to top it."

Ichigo smirked again and took a step back, away from the wall, before scooping her easily into his arms. She squeaked in surprise, shifting her hold on him automatically, and as their eyes met again and he turned toward the hall, he said, "I'll just have to get creative."

* * *

><p><strong>As it <strong>turned out, Ichigo had done a lot more than bake her a cake and keep her up late the night before. After running home in the morning to change and get ready, Ichigo returned to her apartment with his family in tow. They had barely gotten their 'happy birthday!'s out of the way before the other guests began arriving.

In addition to Chad, Uryuu, Tatsuki, and Chizuru, Ichigo had arranged for some of her friends from Soul Society to stop by as well. Rangiku led the way through the door barely half an hour later, and Rukia, Renji, and Toushirou filed in in her wake.

The large group (briefly joined by Kisuke, Yoruichi, and Tessai) migrated to the park for a while in order to enjoy the afternoon sunshine. Renji and Ichigo managed to keep their fighting to a minimum, and only twice did someone have to leave to take care of a hollow.

Everyone returned to Orihime's apartment later for pizza (paid for by Isshin), and shortly after that, Orihime was finally allowed to see her cake.

As Ichigo disappeared into the kitchen to get it and everyone prepared to wait to be served, Orihime clapped her hands together and, eyes riveted to the kitchen entryway, exclaimed, "Oh, I can't wait to see my cake!"

Rukia cocked an eyebrow at her curiously. "You mean you haven't seen it yet?"

"How'd it get in your fridge, then?" Renji asked before Orihime could answer.

"Yeah," Tatsuki cut in from beside her best friend, "I just assumed you bought it yourself."

Orihime shook her head, smiling brightly, and said, "Oh, no! I hadn't really even thought about my cake yet, and then yesterday Ichigo showed up and insisted on making me one!"

Isshin grinned knowingly and said, "So he actually made it himself, huh? I'm so proud of that boy!" He didn't seem to have registered the otherwise-stunned-silence that had filled the room at Orihime's declaration.

Slowly, Rukia asked, "_**Ichigo**_…made you…a _**cake**_?"

Tatsuki's voice was nearly identical as she added, "By _**hand**_?"

Orihime turned her attention to the two wide-eyed women and nodded. "Yes! But he wouldn't let me see it, so I have no idea what it looks like!"

From the kitchen entryway Ichigo called out, "Hey, if you don't trust me, don't eat it. It's not for any of you geniuses anyway."

"Oh, no!" Rangiku exclaimed eagerly, sitting forward as she added, "I _**want**_ to try it! That way we'll all get to taste your love for Orihime!"

Isshin, Renji, and Rukia burst into laughter as soon as the comment had fallen from the Lieutenant's lips, and Tatsuki and Karin joined them soon after. Ichigo and Orihime were immediately scarlet and found themselves looking anywhere but at each other.

Yuzu stood up and put her hands on her hips, interrupting the laughter to say, "Look, you're embarrassing them! If you keep it up, Ichigo might accidentally drop the cake and ruin Orihime's birthday dessert!"

"You're right, you're right," Isshin gasped, waving one hand in acknowledgment, "Daddy's sorry, Yuzu! We won't laugh anymore!" He sucked in a lungful of air and pushed it out through his nose in an attempt to make good on his promise, but he only barely succeeded.

Grunting something under his breath, Ichigo snapped, "Oi, all of you shut up!" He took a deep, calming, breath then and turned his attention wholly to his girlfriend, who looked up when she sensed his eyes on her.

Ichigo stepped up to Orihime, cake held firmly in his hands and candles burning brightly, and knelt before her as he smiled and said, "Happy birthday, Hime."

The remaining laughter immediately subsided and a respectful hush fell over the room as they watched the couple interact.

Orihime smiled softly at him, holding his gaze long enough to say, "Thank you, Ichigo." Then her eyes finally fell to her birthday cake, and her smile grew.

It was an ordinary round cake (which, from tasting the batter, she knew was strawberry flavored), and covered in a traditional, sweet white frosting. Written in light blue were the words 'Happy Birthday Orihime' across the top. And, beneath the writing, were two real strawberries embedded in the frosting, angled together so that they looked almost like a heart.

She swallowed, her eyes burning with unshed tears, and looked back up at him.

Before she could say what everyone knew she was thinking, Tatsuki interrupted and said, "Save the mushiness for later and make a wish already!" As she spoke, she gestured to the still-burning candles carefully placed around the strawberries.

Orihime took a deep breath, the tears vanishing, and nodded firmly. "Right!" Her eyes held Ichigo's for another moment as her smile returned before she dragged in another breath and immediately blew it out. The candle flames flickered before winking out altogether.

Rangiku immediately leaned forward again and asked, "So, what did you wish for?"

Renji rolled his eyes, absently scratching his stomach, and said, "Who cares? Let's just eat alre-!"

Rukia's elbow – planted firmly in his abdomen – interrupted him and she snapped, "_**I**_ care, so shut up!"

As Ichigo pushed to his feet, jaw tight as he reminded himself not to waste his hours of effort by dumping the cake on Renji's head, Orihime replied with a self-conscious laugh, "Eh heh heh, I can't tell you! That's the rule: if I tell someone what I wished for, then it won't come true!"

"I thought the rule was: it won't come true if you don't blow all the candles out?" Rangiku asked with a disappointed frown.

Yuzu jumped in helpfully with a smile. "That's the other rule; there's more than one, that's all!"

As Rangiku pouted, Toushirou crossed his arms and mumbled, "You shouldn't be so nosy, anyway."

Orihime stood carefully as the commanding officers of Squad Ten fell into another argument. She ignored Chizuru (who had made another grab for her as she'd stood) and Tatsuki as the short-tempered woman intercepted her, and calmly made her way to the kitchen.

Rukia and Renji were arguing about something that Orihime had missed altogether, and Isshin had blurted a question about the rules of wishes as soon as Yuzu had finished speaking, thereby distracting both of his daughters. Uryuu had closed his eyes in an effort to block out the surrounding arguments, and Chad (sitting calmly) only nodded to her as she made her exit.

She found Ichigo at the counter, carefully slicing pieces of the cake with one of her kitchen knives (which, in his hands, sort of looked like a miniature Zangetsu). He paused when she walked in, turning his head to look over at her, and she smiled in silent reassurance.

Without a word Orihime moved behind him and curved her hands around his torso, loosely fisting his shirt as she pillowed her head between his shoulder blades. "Thank you for today, Ichigo," she whispered as her eyes closed and her body relaxed.

One of Ichigo's hands landed over one of hers and he squeezed in response.

After a moment, he finished cutting the last slice and asked, "Do you want one with a strawberry?"

Orihime smiled and replied, "Yes, please."

She felt him move again and remained silent as he plated the dessert.

When he was done, Ichigo set the knife on the counter and turned around in her arms so that he could see her. She lifted her head to smile at him and he let one hand curl over her cheek as he leaned in and stole a kiss.

Their lips met and Orihime's hands tightened in his shirt as his other hand landed on her hip. He angled his head, his tongue trailing over her lips before slipping inside, and their tongues moved together for a long moment. Then, reluctantly, they pulled apart, well aware of the numerous people in the other room.

She smiled softly up at him, and his lips curved up in return as his raised hand lowered to her other hip.

"Ichigo," Orihime said softly, "I love you."

His smile broadened just a little and, voice soft and low, he replied, "I love you, too, Hime." His forehead dropped to hers, then, and he repeated, "Happy birthday."

Orihime's smile was bright and honest as she said, "The happiest."

A click and a bright flash suddenly interrupted the moment, and the couple startled apart, turning wide eyes and red faces to the entryway.

Rangiku stood up properly and held a camera loosely in one hand, mischievous smile plastered on her face. "I'm _**so**_ glad I brought this! We can put that picture on the cover of next month's magazine; it'll sell like crazy!"

As Orihime simultaneously paled and flushed in embarrassment, her eyes still wide, Ichigo's face nearly turned crimson and he snarled, "Give me that damned camera, Matsumoto."

Undaunted by his glare, Rangiku's free hand landed on her hip and she said, "No-can-do."

Ichigo made a strange sound and started forward, and Rangiku quickly spun and disappeared down the hall.

Orihime released a breath, a smile returning to her face, and shook her head softly. She turned her attention, then, to the plated pieces of cake on the counter. As she picked up the two with the strawberries – for her and Ichigo – she couldn't help but think, _I'll have to ask Rangiku for a copy of that magazine…._

She stepped from her kitchen with that thought in mind and, with a smile at her friends and her boyfriend's family, she said, "Help yourselves; the cake is on the counter."

Renji led the charge into the kitchen, and Orihime moved into her suddenly-almost-empty living room and snagged the couch, curling her legs beside her so that Ichigo would have somewhere to sit. She set what would be his plate on the arm of the couch, and then lifted her fork to take the first bite of her piece.

The motion caused the light above her to reflect off of the new bracelet adorning her wrist and she paused, looking at it, and smiled.

It was a charm bracelet, and currently only held two items, but she loved it already. It had been her other gift from Ichigo. The bracelet itself was silver, shiny and slim as it hung on her wrist. The first charm was a silver flower – hibiscus – which represented the bouquet Ichigo had presented her with on her previous birthday (and, of course, her hairpins). The second charm was a strawberry, also silver.

"_You'll get a new charm every year from now on," Ichigo had promised as he'd clipped it around her wrist. With a teasing grin, he'd added, "But only on your birthday."_

Orihime smiled, released a contented sigh, and returned her eyes to her cake as she wondered what charm he'd get her next year.

She'd been so lost in her thoughts that she was startled, first bite of cake not even half-way to her mouth, when Ichigo picked up his plate from beside her and walked into view. She looked up, smiling at him, as she shifted to allow him to sit next to her.

He returned the smile as he sat, letting his shoulder lean into hers slightly since he needed both of his hands to eat.

The others filed back into the living room, settling around them, and Orihime's smile brightened as she watched them. It was true that she didn't ordinarily mind living alone, and since she'd been dating Ichigo she wasn't alone nearly as often as before, but in that moment she really felt like she had a full (if not slightly eccentric) family.

She remembered, all of a sudden, what she'd said to Ichigo in the kitchen a handful of minutes earlier, and decided that she'd spoken the absolute truth.

_This is the happiest birthday I've ever had._ And with that decided, she finally brought her first bite of cake to her lips.

With a smile, as she let the piece hold on her tongue for a moment in order to savor the flavors, she made another decision. Ichigo was going to have to make her a cake next year, too.

_**The End**_

_**A/N:**_ Okay, I know Ichigo (at the least) was sort of OOC here, but I _**had**_ to do it this way, so please forgive me! And, hey, who's to say he won't turn into a semi-romantic, especially for her _**birthday**_? Exactly! LOL Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this story! And I'm sorry about the lack of cake details, but I'm really not a baker or anything, so I didn't want to do something grievously wrong, you know? So, there's that! Also, please don't forget to review!

Oh, and: Happy birthday, Orihime! (I made myself jealous, so you better enjoy it! LOL)


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